


A Plinther's Protest

by insomniac_tales



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One & Other
Genre: Burlesque, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniac_tales/pseuds/insomniac_tales
Summary: Back in 2009 there was an interactive art project in London calledOne & Other. Around the same time some parts of England passed a ban on burlesque. Imagine if Luna Lovegood signed up for an hour on the plinth and used her time wisely to protest the burlesque ban.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	A Plinther's Protest

There's a flicker of interest in the new plinther as the crane arrives to deposit her. She hasn't been nervous, not up until this point, standing with her finger clenched around the waist of her long skirt. What she's about to do is extremely illegal and she's going to get herself into a lot of trouble once she comes off the plinth.

But then, there's a point to this whole thing and Luna Lovegood has never backed down from a challenge.

Since graduating Luna has done a lot of growing up. Maybe she's not quite down to earth. Maybe she never will be, but she finally figured out exactly who she is and exactly what she likes.

The view from the plinth is lovely, the fountains spraying in the background of Trafalgar Square. Of course Luna would draw a daytime spot when her performance is really more suited to the evening crowd. Regardless, she's determined to do this.

Her thumbs hitch into the band of her skirt. She swings her hips around, side to side. No catcalls yet, but she gives it another minute before they start in. A little wiggle and a push with her butt and the first skirt is down around her ankles, revealing a shorter skirt beneath. She kicks it off and the fabric slides toward the edge of the plinth where it sits, pretty and flowery.

She kept the pole from the last plinther; it stands conveniently in the middle and she uses it now to twirl around. She can't pull any of her impressive pole maneuvers on this thing, but it works well enough for her purposes up here. She hopes against hope that by the time they realize she's going all the way it'll be too late to stop her.

She flips her blow away blonde head in a semi circle and then back again before sliding her hand up to tuck the strands behind her ears. Her hand slides back down, over her neck and onto her chest, slower now that her fingers have grasped onto the zipper of her jacket. She slides the zipper toward the hem, turning from the main crowd assembled. She grips each side of the coat once the zipper is down and holds them open, as if using the coat to hide her indecency (which isn't anywhere near indecent yet) from the crowd at her back. She turns her head over her shoulder and winks at them.

"Awfully cheeky!" shouts someone from the crowd below, followed by a share of wolf whistles. The few parents in the square with children are already bustling to pack their kids up. _Why the nerve!_ Though Luna can't hear these sentiments and is unperturbed by their quick departures.

The jacket comes off, tossed onto the discarded skirt.

Her performance is one she's practiced well, though she's never stretched it out to fill a full hour. Technically it's a bit less than an hour when you account for the crane changeover, but still, her usual tease doesn't take so long. She's layered herself with clothes to make this hour last and she's tossed in some extra dance moves. Luna's hoping it's enough and that someone will get her message.

Another skirt, her first shirt, the pile is getting bigger with each turn around the pole. She shimmies out of her third skirt to reveal the shortest one yet and those lovely fishnet thigh highs she found in the bottom of her drawer. Luna's always found thigh highs to be so entirely alluring. The very first time she wore them she felt like she could move mountains. It was this discovery that set her looking even further into the sexy undergarments of the muggle world.

One discovery led to another and before long Luna Lovegood (as perfect a stage name as any could find, especially given that it was her given name) was knee deep in the world of burlesque and the art of the strip tease. It wasn't so much the pretty underthings that drew her to burlesque, though they certainly pointed her in that direction.

For Luna, burlesque was an art, a superior expression of sexuality and sensuality. It could be funny, or over the top. It could be a long slow tease of seduction or a quick swing, whipping clothes off as if coming home from work and scrounging for your comfy PJs. It could be anything it wanted to be, all mixed in with garters and flashing, sequined pasties. The art of burlesque was that the dancers and strippers, all artisans of their kind, made it what it was. How could she not be drawn to that?

In the more recent months politicians had been butting their ugly heads in, trying to regulate who could strip and where they could strip. It was, simply put, Britain's ban on burlesque. Luna, and all of her fellow performers felt stifled, but more importantly stubborn in the face of these law changes. They found sneaky ways to strip and tease, underground venues to share and practice their craft.

For Luna, this new life she was leading was so much more interesting than the one she had at Hogwarts. She'd only ever felt this alive while in the DA, sneaking around to practice and learn magic that had been forbidden by their staid headmistress. Stripping for fun and profit (and doing it underground) had been the greatest adventure of her life.

Now she was sharing this adventure on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square. This was Luna's protest: to fight the ban on burlesque by practicing her striptease in this most public of places, on the most visible of plinths, broadcast to the world at large over the internet.

She blows a kiss to the camera, not sure if this is the one trained on her at the moment. Another shirt works it's way slowly but surely up and off her arms. She's wearing a gauzy bit of fabric covering a bra, though it's clear enough that the crowd below can see words written on her chest and stomach even if they can't make them out yet.

Her skirt comes down slowly, hands caressing her thighs as they move lower and lower. She's down to her panties, a fancy, little, black thing, all lace. She grins and slaps her own arse, swinging her hips around so it protrudes nicely.

She takes a deep breath, moves around the pole one last time before removing her gauzy film. Tossing it aside, it sits on the ever growing pile of clothes, a testament to how far Luna is willing to go. She shimmies her shoulders, shakes her hips and twists her fingers on the clasp of her bra.

With one smooth motion the bra drops onto her mountain of stripped garments. All that's left is a pair of pasties (bright red with tassels) and Luna's careful handwriting. Across her lovely, pale skin in dark, thick black script the words: _Lift the ban_ , on her back: _Burlesque is art too_.

Of course, her hour is almost up and the crane is lifting to replace her. There are a couple of bobbies down below and Luna's pretty sure she's leaving the square with handcuffs on her thin wrists. Still, she bites back the brightest smile.

Another jiggle and raucous, loud giggle. Luna made her point, even if she does have to spend the night in jail.


End file.
